The Works of Mrs. Hemans (Volume 1); With a Memoir of Her Life (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1857 Excerpt: ... "July, 1829.--I walked with Sir Walter Scott through the Rhymour's Glen. He showed me the site of a little hamlet, which had been deserted on account of the supposed visits of a spirit. He described to me some extraordinary cavern scenes he had explored in his voyage round the northern coasts and isles of Scotland; mentioned his having sometimes heard the low, rolling murmur of storms in the air along those dreary coasts, for hours before the bursting of the tempest; told me of a friend of his, a man of by no means an imaginative mind, who had heard the Wild Huntsman in the air at night, at Valenciennes. So persuaded was this gentleman that a real chase was sweeping past him through the streets, that he turned aside into the porch of a church in order to make way for it. Nothing, however, was visible; and he at last became affected with feelings of supernatural fear. On mentioning the circumstance to the people with whom he lodged, they were much awe-struck, and told him it was fortunate that, heretic as he was, he had sheltered within the shadow of a catholic church. Sir Walter repeated, with much animation, part of the Spanish ballad of 'Dragut'--(see Lockhart's Collection)--'Row, row, my slaves, quoth Dragut, ' &c. "He gave me a thrilling description of a scene which had been witnessed by a friend of his at Ehrenbreitstein--the German army of liberators crossing the Rhine after their victories. Upon the first gleam of the noble river, they burst forth into the song of 'Am Rhein, am Rhein ' They were two days crossing, during which the rock and the castle rang out to the peal of this gallant strain; and even the Cossacks, as they passed over, caught the national enthusiasm, and, with the clash, and clang, and the roar of their stormy war-music, swelled out...